Puppet
by fahzzyquill
Summary: I like being alone though. It gives me time to think. Lots of time. Too much time. Story of my life. I don’t want to be more of a puppet in the hands of a puppeteer than I already am. Fate is cruel. And I am fate’s favorite puppet. Minor edits.


Puppet

Alone. I walk alone. On this long, empty journey we call life, I walk alone. I've never really had friends. It would be a lie to call them that. Friends care about each other. They are acquaintances, no, that doesn't quite describe them. They are people who are in the same situation as I am. Not like we talk about it. Not like we talk about anything.

I hate talking. It's impossible to say the right thing at the right time. I always say the wrong thing, which is perhaps why I haven't been doing much talking as of late. I hate the noise of life, yet the silence eats me far more than their bitter words and whispers ever will. I am the type of person who always feels lonely. When I am in a room full of people I know, I feel so alone. I prefer to be in a room full of people I don't know, because then, I can disappear and no one notices.

I like being alone, though. It gives me time to think. Lots of time. Too much time. Story of my life. I am an outsider shunned by all. I have withdrawn within myself to a place where I can't be reached. I cannot stand the pain of life, so I have built walls to protect myself. Sometimes, I wonder if I built them to keep others out, or myself in. I am my own worst enemy.

It is not exactly the smartest decision I have ever made. I have many enemies. I am incapable of love. Which is not to say I have never been loved. I have. By my mother. But I pushed her away a long time ago. She was heartbroken, but then again she is always heartbroken. My father has seen to that. She took a chance, she thought he loved her. Maybe he did once, but not anymore. Not after I came along. I'm like her, except worse. I'm bad. Evil. Unredeemable. Not like I care what he thinks of me. He could drop dead tomorrow and I wouldn't care if it weren't for the fact that my mother loves him so much. I don't see why she does. I wish she never had. I wish I had never been born.

No one would care if I died. They'd be happy that I wasn't around to burden them anymore. Some might even celebrate. Hell, if I was them, I'd celebrate. My mother would kill me if she heard me talking like this. She worries about me. Too much. I'm not suicidal. I don't really want to die. I mean I have no desire to live, but I don't want to experience the pain of death. I'm too much of a coward to kill myself anyway.

I hate being pushed around, yet I never stand up for myself. Why should I deny what they say about me, when we both know it's the truth anyway. No one will ever love me. Not the way I want to be loved. No one will ever save me. Because I do not want to be saved. Well I do, but I won't do what it takes to let someone save me. I'm bitter, old. More in actions, than in years.

People worry about me. Everyone worries about me. I'm not worth all their worry. One day they'll realize that. One day they'll stop pitying me. I hate pity. I do not want their pity. It is insulting. Just like everything else they say to me.

I want to be left alone. I want to slowly waste away. I want to fade until I disappear. Shrink into the shadows until no one can see me. Shame I haven't figured out how yet. There are those, those people I refuse to call friends who want to me to join them. I have refused them thus far. But I don't think I will for much longer. If I am going to be forced to live in a world where everyone hates me, than perhaps I should do something that makes me deserving of their hate. Everyone expects me to join them any way. Most presume I already have.

I want respect. From someone. Anyone. But joining them is sure eventual suicide. Perhaps that's reason enough to join. Reason enough to sell my soul to the walking devil himself. I don't want to bow before another, though. I don't want to be more of a puppet in the hands of a puppeteer than I already am. Fate is cruel. And I am fate's favorite puppet.

To join him would be rebellion, but it doesn't have the sort of dramatic flare I crave. It is not a loud rebellion, for that would get me sent to Azkaban. I have no desire to visit the closest thing on earth that I can liken to hell. Not that I don't already live in hell. The offers have been getting more enticing. Yet, I know they are false promises. Empty lies. Offers made to appeal to my weaknesses. Rather ineffective because none know what I crave. Or what is my greatest pain. Fools. All of them. The whole lot. Each one a pawn. Not that I'm not, I just happen to be acutely aware of it. The biggest decision I must make is, whose pawn do I wish to be. Who do I wish to wrong more? For who is my hate and disdain deeper?

Each night there are whispers of offers and promises. Whispers of glory and the restoration of the natural order. The right order. The order in which purebloods are on top. Of course, the fools always forget that I am not a pureblood and therefore have no desire to cement the positions of purebloods as on top.

Hmmmm. I wonder what entices me. Not gold, it is a material wealth that does not appeal to me. Fame? Why would I want fame when I am already infamous here? Glory? Ha ha, I am not a noble Gryffindor. Immortality? Life is miserable enough, why any fool would want to live forever is beyond me. Hmm, no such things tempt me. I wonder what does. Well if I don't know, then no other will figure it out before me.

I am going to rest now. Another hopeless, pointless, miserable day hangs before me. I could say something foolish like, there is hope in tomorrow. But I have no hope for tomorrow and such sentiments I find revolting, so I could not see myself indulging in such useless behavior. Good night world. Good night fools. Good night cruel puppeteer.

A/N: Umm I'm not sure why I wrote this. I don't really like this and therefore I'm not exactly proud of it. Well here it is. Whatever it is. Ok so I went back and reread it and maybe it's not so bad. It's just a departure for me. Which is good, it'll help me grow as a writer.

Oh yeah, the character is Snape just in case for some odd reason you didn't figure it out. I envisioned him as a teenager and I now realize that I like writing about him much more when he's an adult. Set shortly before he joins the Deatheaters while he is still at Hogwarts. Review if the spirit moves you. Or if you're really bored.

Disclaimer: Character isn't mine. Words aren't mine. My brain probably isn't mine either. You never know. I mean I didn't buy it and since nothing in life is free it's probably not mine. Yet it's in my head so, you figure it out if you have that much time on your hands.


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